


The Moon Travelers

by Cinaed



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Canon, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-22
Updated: 2002-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started eight years ago... Eight years since Trunks left.. Eight years since Goten betrayed him. What exactly happened all those years ago?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, oh god, dear readers, this is...actually my first ever slash/yaoi fic. From when I was, oh, fifteen? Take that however you will. Still, DBZ will always be my first fandom and hold a special place in my heart.
> 
> The song lyrics that accompany each chapter are adapted from Savage Garden's "To the Moon and Back." My only justification for this is that a) Savage Garden is awesome and b) I was, uh, fifteen, seriously.

_He's taking his time making up the reasons  
To justify all the hurt inside  
Guess he knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes  
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one_

__The night was freezing as I opened the screen door and slid silently onto wooden-planked porch of my house. Yes, my house. After college, I had found a job as a professor of Japanese mythology at a university as far away from Satan City as I could manage without actually going that far overseas. I now lived a few hours outside the capital of Rome, in a tiny alabaster-making town called Volterra. Who would have thought, me, naive Son Goten, an established professor in Italy?

A small smile crossed my lips as I leapt soundlessly onto the porch railing. The house was small, of course, with only a kitchen, a bathroom, a tiny dining room, a small study, and a bedroom. But that would change as soon as I got that raise in three years. (There had been some new law a couple years back that teachers, from kindergarten to law school, had to get a raise every five years. I don't know why they did it, but hey, the more money for me, the better.)

Even as I balanced there, I knew there were only three more years until the next raise. I couldn't believe it. Seven years. Seven years since the end of college. That made eight years since I had last seen Trunks... It was hard to believe that I had actually turned thirty-one only a month or two before. God, the very thought made me feel ancient.

I scanned the yard, admiring the landscape that Pan had designed as I teetered on the wooden rail. Who would have thought my niece would become a famous architect? Even at twenty-two, however, she was known for her imagination in landscape design. Somehow she had even managed to get into college with a full scholarship. I hadn't realized my little niece was all grown up until I'd seen her at the last family reunion with her latest boyfriend. I recalled his name being Christopher, or something like that. Some jock aiming for the majors, or maybe a theater major. To be honest, I'd hadn't really paid much attention, too busy fending off my mother's questions about when I'd return home for good. 

Goosebumps rose on my bare skin as I peered around, the cool night's breeze sending my hair flowing backwards slightly. I wore only a pair of light blue cotton jogging pants, but I didn't feel self-conscious. After all, I was all alone down this road; there was no one to see me half-clothed.

Suddenly I caught sight of an object I hadn't noticed before, one that Pan must have put in during her little "experiment" the weekend before last. My eyes narrowed.

"What the hell?" I growled, leaping from the rail and landing silently on the damp grass. For a moment I was startled by the cold wetness, then I remembered it had rained during classes. Damn. Now my feet would get soaked and freeze. Shrugging to myself, I padded barefoot towards the foreign object, almost against my will. If it was what I thought it was, I was going to _kill_ Pan...

As I ventured closer, the moon peeked out from behind dark clouds, and illuminated the sculptures for a brief moment. But that was all the time I needed to take in every feature. I stopped dead, staring in shock, my hands instinctively curling into fists.

"Damn it, Pan," I whispered aloud, closing my eyes and trying to block out the sculptures' faces, "why did you have to go and do that?"

The sculptures were beautifully carved; there was no doubt about that. All five figures looked as if they would shake off their marble coverings and continue the actions they were frozen in. That very thought made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The five seemed to be portraying the very emotions caught in the photograph that had been taken only a few weeks before Trunks had left for college. Has it really been thirteen years? God...

I had that very photo in my scrapbook. Pan must have coined it somehow. She did so love to make me miserable. Or maybe Bra had committed the crime. Perhaps even Marron...

But those three didn't know that Trunks and I had argued just before he vanished off the face of the earth. They didn't know that we had actually drawn each other's blood in anger, or spoken words that couldn't be taken back. And never would, now that Trunks was gone...

Even as the moonlight lit up the five's laughing faces, the memory sprang unbidden to my mind of the afternoon that picture had been taken. I could recall Trunks's insane smirk even now and that teenage jackass attitude of his. And the way he could make us all laugh without even trying...

. . .

"Go fuck yourself, Briefs," I said, crossing my arms and meeting Trunks's gaze squarely. He smirked evilly in return as the troubled look vanished.

I didn't know why my best friend had been so depressed lately. Ever since the beginning of his senior year, he had been moody, ranging from completely evil to completely depressed.

"Only if you help me," he teased, the mischievous gleam once more in his sapphire blue eyes. I smiled mentally. The dark look that he had been wearing was completely gone now, replaced by pure mischief.

"Fat chance of that, asshole," I shot back. I was glad that our parents had left the five of us alone for once, since whenever Trunks and I were around each other, we always seemed to curse. Even in front of seven-year-olds.

"Too bad," Trunks said in fake disappointment. "I was looking forward to it."

"Jackass. Cheating on poor Lena. Or is it Allison, now? Or Nicky?" I accompanied the words with a punch to his shoulder, which he gleefully returned and sent me sprawling onto the park's grassy terrain.

"Could you two please stop cursing?" sighed one of our smaller companions, and both Trunks and I laughed.

"No," we said as one, and the complainer, my dear niece, sighed and buried her nose in the book she was currently reading. Into the World of Architecture, or some sort of crap like that. How the hell a seven-year-old could enjoy reading that, I'll never know.

"Please?" Pan asked again, and I sighed. The problem was, Marron had become the object of Pan's affections, as had Trunks, and now wherever either Trunks or Marron went, both my niece and Trunks's little sister went. Of course, I was always with one of the other, so I was always stuck with the two little girls.

"Sorry, kiddo, but we've got to vent some steam," said Trunks. He flashed her a winning smile, which the seven-year-old immediately melted at.

"Never mind!" she chirped, and continued to read the architecture book as Trunks and I flashed each other smiles. Kids.

"So, what college are you planning to go to?" Marron questioned Trunks.

Instantly the smile was gone from his face. Inwardly I began my string of curses that accurately described, at least to me, Krillin's daughter at the moment. "Some college," he mumbled, his normally clear eyes darkening. I decided to change the subject.

"Marron, did you see last night's football game? We kicked ass!" Marron turned to grin at me at the mention of the game.

"Yeah, we did," she agreed. She suddenly elbowed Trunks. "But that's because the purple-haired wonder saved the day, eh?" Trunks cracked a tiny smile as I laughed.

Trunks had been the one to score the game-winning touchdown.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Trunks abruptly announced, causing all four of us to watch him curiously. Trunks's ideas were never peaceful.

"What is that, o mighty leader?" I finally ventured, and Trunks began to grin his insane smirk, the one that we all loved.

"Let's see Bra and Pan can fly," he declared, grabbing Bra by the shoulders and tossing her into the air. The eight-year-old squealed in delight as she soared several feet until plummeting back into his arms.

Then it was Pan's turn. I grabbed my giggling niece and threw her.

"Whee!" she yelled before falling back into my awaiting grasp. "More!" 

So we did, throwing Bra and Pan up and down like sacks of potatoes while Marron watched, amused by our antics.

Trunks and I finally stopped, collapsing on the ground in mock-faints of exhaustion. Still laughing, the two little girls pounced on our stomachs and began to jump, chanting, "More! More!" That seemed to have become their favorite word.

Trunks and I exchanged hidden smirks, and then slowly rose, sending both sister and niece flying.

"I know!" Trunks said brightly, as if he had just thought of the diabolical plan. "Let's see if Marron can fly!"

"You all know I can- No!" Marron half-groaned, half-laughed as Bra and Pan charged at her, Trunks and I close behind. She turned to flee, and we all froze at the flash of camera. As one, we turned to face my goofily grinning father, from whose hands a camera dangled.

"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I couldn't resist." The five of us gave each other looks, and we all began to grin.

"Get him!" Trunks roared, and we charged.

. . .

I shook my head, the memory dissolving as I did so. That had been so long ago... Thirteen long years...

The sudden sound of a motorcycle engine made me jump, and I looked up, startled. For one thing, motorcycles never came down my country lane, ever. For another, it might be someone I didn't want near my house. I wasn't going to stick around to find out.

"What the-" I began, bolting for the porch and the safety of my abode, very much aware that I was only wearing worn, old jogging pants, with my chest bare for anyone to see.

I entered the house at a run, bolting for the bedroom, and collapsing on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My breathing was loud in my ears as I waited for the motorcycle to pass. Damn, I was out of shape. When was the last time I had been to a gym, or sparred against anyone? I racked my memory banks, but couldn't recall. Maybe when Dad had come over on the anniversary of my first year out of college, seven years ago. Hell, no wonder I was out of shape.

Then I heard the motorcycle come to a roaring stop in front my house. I froze, incredulous. There was no possible way I knew anyone who rode a bike. Maybe one of my students... I checked my watch as the motorcycle's engine died. 2:01 PM. If any of my students was out at a time like this to my house, something must be wrong. Maybe someone had a problem with an assignment? Once more, I searched my brains for information. But the only homework I had given them was a ten-page essay due in two weeks... No one should come complaining to me at two o'clock in the morning about that assignment, especially not any of my students. They knew to come to me right after class.

I heard boots make their way down my driveway, and swore loudly. Why was I lying in bed, without a shirt on, while someone walked up to my doorway? Bolting out of bed, I hurried over to my dresser and cursed softly a

s I saw that all my shirts were in the laundry except for two white wife-beaters. Damn. When had I ever gotten one of those? Well, a wife-beater would have to do. Better that than nothing, I guess.

I was mid-way pulling it on when someone knocked on my door. I swore once more, yanking the white cotton down and not bothering to slip on my slippers. Whoever this asshole was, he would have to listen to my rants. I didn't appreciate people at my door this late. Or rather, at my door, period. Unless I invited them, of course.

Racing to the door, I threw it open wide with a snarled, in Italian, "What the hell do you want?"

"Well, hello to you too," a tired voice replied, and I actually looked at the person who stood in my doorway, the porch's automatic light illuminating his gray, exhausted face.

My jaw dropped. I knew those bright blue eyes that now gleamed with faint humor at me. I remembered those lavender locks that tumbled wildly to his shoulders as he stared back at me now.

My mouth moved soundlessly as I gawked at the man from my past. Finally I managed a single word through my incredulous lips.

"Trunks?"

Trunks Briefs smiled. It wasn't a pleased smile, or a mocking one. He wasn't amused either, or sad. He just... smiled. The only emotion I could read was in his eyes, which held a bitter glint to them.

"Hello, Goten," he said, his voice lower than I remembered it being. "Long time no see."

 


	2. Chapter Two

_They're saying  
Mama never loved him much  
And daddy never keeps in touch  
That's why he shies away from human affection  
But somewhere in a private place  
He packs his bags for outer space  
And now he's waiting for the right kind of pilot  
To come (and he'll say to him)  
He's saying_

__"What the hell are you doing here?" I finally managed to gasp. Trunks looked up from the ham sandwich I had made him, raising an eyebrow.

"Coming to visit an old friend," he said, as if it were obvious. "Besides, I should be asking you the same thing. How the hell did you end up in _Volterra_? Last I remember is that you were going to stick around Satan City." I shrugged in reply.

"I changed my mind," I said quietly, sitting in the chair opposite his. "Where have you been for the last eight years, Trunks?" This time it was Trunks who shrugged.

"All over the world," he said, waving an expressive hand. "San Francisco. Berlin. London. Hong Kong. Sydney. Washington DC. Paris. Madrid. Stockholm. New York City. Bermuda. Anchorage. Rome, which is where I first heard of the great Professor Son Goten." He raised an eyebrow towards me, almost mockingly. "You published a book?"

I was annoyed at the warmth that rose to my cheeks as I shot back, accusingly, "How did you get the money to go to those places?" Trunks, to my surprise and fury, chuckled.

"It was easy, my dear Goten," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "You should already know this, since you helped me with the plan. I had over a million dollars bequeathed to me as the soon-to-be Vice-President of Capsule Corporation. I simply took the money and separated it into bank accounts all over the world. I faked applications, and got jobs whenever I felt like it, and added onto my fortune." He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. Of course, I had known about the money (it had been in the news for months after Trunks's disappearance and I had, after all, accidentally helped him with the idea), but I had wanted to hear him tell of his thievery in his own words.

I had had enough. Rising to my feet, I asked coldly, "If you were perfectly fine, why the hell didn't you talk to me? Or Marron? Or Pan?" I didn't bother mentioning Bra, for we both knew she would tell her father anything.

Trunks's smug smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. He stood, the half-eaten sandwich forgotten as we glared at each other.

"You would have told my parents where I was," he replied, his voice equally icy.

"I wouldn't have!" I protested, but even then I recalled a half-hidden memory from that day eight years before...

...

"Is something bothering you, Trunks?" I questioned, looking up from my book of mythology. Chinese, to be precise. Trunks shook his head, but his scowl deepened. I hated it when he scowled. He looked exactly (besides the different complexion) like a pissed-off Vegeta when he did, which never boded well.

"There is too! What's wrong?" I asked, closing my book and watching him. When he still didn't answer, I sighed. "Well, whatever it is, don't worry about it. Just think about this: you'll be out of college in only two weeks-" His explosion was so sudden, so unexpected that I nearly fell off my bed as he yelled, apparently not caring that we were in a dorm where anyone could hear us.

"That's the whole damn problem, Goten!" he roared, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen in him. Not even when Buu had come, or when Vegeta had died in that futile attempt... "That's the whole fucking deal!"

"But, in two weeks you'll be free," I said weakly, taken aback by my friend's anger. Then, as quickly as it had come, his fury vanished, leaving him looking exhausted and drained.

"No, Goten," he quietly informed me. "That's where you're wrong. In two weeks, my freedom will be gone. Forever. I'll be the Vice-President of Capsule Corporation, whether I damn well want to or not."

In a flash, I understood. His mother was forcing him to be Vice-President, even though he had told her time and time again that he wanted to be a doctor. Which was why instead of going into med school, he had gone into business, which he hated.

"Then don't be," I said, the words flowing from my lips before I could help myself. Trunks laughed, sounding bitter.

"As if Mom will listen," he sneered. "Or Dad." But I was on a roll.

"Come on, Trunks. Think about it. Even if you hated business, you still got straight As. Take a couple extra years of school, then add med school, and you can be a doctor. Your mother can't disinherit you. Besides, everyone, except your parents, knows that Bra wants that position more than you ever have." Slowly, the shadows in his eyes faded, and a look of hope filled his face. Then mischief.

"She can't disinherit me," he murmured softly, more to himself than anyone else. He sounded as if I had just opened the doorway to a world of possibilities.

I frowned at the look. "Of course she can't-" I halted in mid-answer as Trunks slowly looked up at me, smiling his familiar evil smile. "What are you planning?"

"Why the hell did I want to be a doctor for?" he replied, laughing to himself.

"Because you wanted to help people," I reminded him warily, but he simply shook his head.

"I automatically have at least a million dollars, Goten. I already have a degree in business. I'm set. I can do whatever the fuck I want." I stared in disbelief as he continued to laugh.

That was not what I had had in mind.

"You can't leave," I informed him, and his laughter stopped instantly, his face resuming its dark scowl.

"I sure as hell can," was his reply as he rose. "In fact, I could leave right now." I bolted to my feet.

"No you can't!" I said loudly, sensing my plan had given Trunks all the control instead of me. Trunks smiled smugly.

"Watch me," he said, and started for the door.

I'm still not sure why I did what I did next, but I did it. Desperation, maybe. 

I snatched the phone off the hook beside my bed, and yelled, "I'll call your parents! You won't have time to get the money before they get to the bank!" Trunks paused in step, and slowly turned back towards me. His look was one of both shock and betrayal as he took in my determined face and the phone gripped in my white-knuckled hands. His face twisted with a hundred different emotions and he took a step towards me. Then another.

"You can't leave," I said for the second time in the last minute. For a moment he smiled, looking bitterly amused.

"Watch me." I didn't even try to block the fist that slammed into my jaw and sent me flying into the wall. I was too surprised.

"Trunks..." My faint whisper filled my ears as I watched him turn and walk away and out the door, disappearing down the hallway.

He didn't reply, and everything faded into darkness...

. . .

I bowed my head as the memory disappeared to the back of my mind once more, and was silent. I felt Trunks's eyes study me, but he said nothing. At last I spoke, surprised at how tired my voice sounded to my own ears.

"Why did you come back?"

Gentle fingers lifted my chin so that I met him eye to eye. He was smiling, a sad, soft smile that softened the weariness in his tired face.

"To apologize for hitting you," was his soft whisper.

I smiled.

"Come on. I was an asshole, about to tattle on you to your parents. I deserved it." Trunks chuckled, the sadness in his grin fading to amusement.

"Even if you did, I shouldn't have," he said to me, his fingers still on my jaw. Without knowing why, I reddened.

"What's done is done," I whispered, torn between asking Trunks to relocate his hand and to wait for him to move it himself.

Maybe Trunks noticed my discomfort. Maybe he didn't. Nevertheless, the smile on his face widened into an achingly familiar, evil one that suddenly made me feel even more uncomfortable.

Raising an eyebrow, his fingers never leaving my jaw, he surveyed my attire.

"Not dressed for company, professor?" he teased, taking in more flesh than I usually showed anyone. I rolled my eyes, slipping into our old characters.

"It's the middle of the fucking night, Briefs. Of course I'm not dressed for visitors." Although my reply was sarcastic, I grinned to show I was joking.

Trunks shook his head in mock disapproval. "I thought your mother would have taught you to keep your home cleaner."

I half-smirked, still feeling Trunks's fingers acutely on my skin. "My mother's in Japan. I'm in Italy. Figure it out, Briefs."

"Why don't you figure it out for me?" His words were so soft that I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.

"What?" I asked, squinting a little at him.

An odd light gleamed in his eyes as he opened his mouth to reply.

 


	3. Chapter Three

_I would fly you to the moon and back  
If you'll be if you'll be my baby  
Got a ticket for a world where  
we belong  
So would you be my baby  
Ooh-ooh_

__At the last second, however, the expression in his face changed, and the laughter faded to seriousness.

"Nothing," was his reply, and abruptly his fingers were gone, replaced by cool air.

For some reason, I missed that feel of flesh against flesh.

Shifting in place, I questioned, keenly aware of the uncomfortable silence, "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Got a beer? American style?"

I grinned impishly.

"Of course," I informed him, pulling two beers from the fridge. Handing one to Trunks, I popped the top of my own.

Taking a quick sip of the beer, I curiously asked, recalling his earlier words, "What kind of jobs did you do during your trips?"

Trunks smiled mischievously. "All sorts of jobs," he said with an off-handed shrug. "Stuff that would bore you."

"Or maybe interest me," I quickly countered. My friend looked amused, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"I don't want to talk about me, I want to talk about you." His words were earnest, just as they had been when talking about our fight. Seeing the determination glittering in his eyes, I gave up-- for the moment.

"Fine," I sighed, settling down in one of the chairs at the dining table. "What do you want to know?"

Trunks copied my movements, sitting and taking a long swig of his drink. When he swallowed the liquid, he grinned, but his eyes were deadly solemn.

"Everything, professor. Everything."

Clearing my throat, I obeyed.

"I'll begin with the others. Your father is exactly the same, always sparring with mine. He didn't react much when you disappeared, only smirked a secretive grin and said nothing. Your mother went kind of berserk about the million dollars and always wondered if you were safe or not. I think she gave up on you returning after a year or two. Bra was torn between worrying about you and being happy about becoming the new Vice President. My dad and mom didn't really react either, but then again, he could find you anytime he wanted to. Gohan was terribly worried, but Dad said that you were all right, and we trusted him. Pan- she had a crush on you, you know- was terrified that you had been kidnapped, but I told her you hadn't." A sardonic smirk twisted my lips briefly. "I just didn't tell her how I knew that. Marron worried about you, but with my dad and my own reassurances, she figured you were happy wherever you were, and that you'd return someday. She actually got married four years back to Orin Hunnish, the owner of a large telemarketing company. Mrs. Hunnish is definitely in the money. And in love. They have a five-month-old daughter named Oral, and Marron's a stay-at-home mother now." The look on his face when I told him about Marron was almost comical.

"Marron has a _kid_?" he finally said, staring in shock at something only he could see. I grinned.

"She_ is_ thirty years old, Briefs." Trunks blinked, his eyebrows falling back to their normal positions.

"Right," he mumbled, his eyes far-off and distant. Waiting until his eyes cleared and his gaze refocused on me, I continued.

"Pan goes to a prestigious university, and is already a well-known architect. She did the landscape for my yard. Bra is at the same university, and they're roommates. Her major is business, of course." Trunks grinned faintly.

"Of course," he agreed, nodding. His eyes focused on me, and suddenly it was as if that pale blue gaze was taking in every detail of my physique. As he did so, I felt the same weird sense his fingers had produced within me.

"What?" I finally inquired, curious to why he was staring at me like that.

"You've changed a lot," was his reply, his eyes still lingering on me.

"So have you," I commented. It was my turn to take in his frame.

The ham sandwich and beer had brought color back to his nevertheless pale face. I saw on his visage tired lines that had never been there before, and the slight crease in his forehead that came from scowling too much. His hair was the same color as before but longer, falling to his shoulders like a biker's. What was I saying? He had gotten here on a motorcycle, after all. His eyes were the same piercing sapphire, but they held more wisdom, more nightmares, more sorrows in them than before. I didn't like the darkness the lurked behind the bright light that shimmered in those azure depths, and mentally told myself to come back to that later. The bright light that had shone in his eyes at age eighteen, however, still burned brightly, their luminosity reassuring me of his will to live. Despite the thinness of his frame, he still looked strong, and his clothes were nicer than what I wore, a tight-fitting dark indigo sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of long black jeans that fit him rather smugly, a fact that caused my eyes to quickly focus back on his face. Unfortunately, my gaze fell upon his lips, which were unflawed, full and moistened. And desirable-

Damn, I must be worn-out. Trunks was a friend, and more to the point, I wasn't gay. I just hadn't found a girl to interest me yet, not one I could see spending the rest of my life with.

Noticing my slight recoil, Trunks raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Unable to help it, I flushed and cast my gaze upon the table, suddenly finding the wooden design quite interesting.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a long while, until he finally broke it.

"So, what made you choose to become a professor on Japanese mythology?" His question made me raise my eyes briefly to grin at him. "I know you were interested in the bullshit, but your major was Chinese Literature."

I shrugged. "I lost interest in it, and found Japanese mythology more interesting. That was one of my minors. Remember? Along with American Culture?"

"Yeah, but you were born in Japan, baka," he shot back. It was then I realized we had been speaking in English the entire time. Both Italian and English had become fluent languages for me; so much in fact that I sometimes even thought in the dialects.

"When did you learn English, Briefs?" I asked, my eyebrows rising in surprise.

Trunks looked mischievous, flashing me that mega-watt smile of his. I caught my breath slightly as the old Trunks was back in full-force, no hint of any weariness or sorrow in that grin. "I picked it up."

"In San Francisco, New York City, and Washington DC?" I questioned wryly.

"And Hong Kong," Trunks added, chuckling faintly. "They speak English there too, professor."

"Of course. How could I forget Hong Kong?" I queried sardonically.

"Yes, professor. How could you?" he countered with a smirk. Unable to think of anything to reply with, I responded with a shrug and another sip of my beer.

Having finished off his ham sandwich and alcoholic drink, Trunks asked, "So, what's the rest of your home like?" The question caught me slightly off-guard, and I blinked rather stupidly before replying.

"Er, it isn't much. I'll show you." With a nod, Trunks rose. Standing after a moment, I turned and headed from the fairly tiny dining room/kitchen to my study.

"So this is where you write the assignments to screw up your students' weekends?" Trunks asked as his eyes scanned the cluttered room. I shrugged, grinning.

"I'm not a tyrant, Briefs. That's your job, remember?" A small smile formed on his face as his eyes clouded over and he relived old memories. I grinned as his eyes cleared, and he smirked back.

"Whatever you say, professor. Do you have a guest room for me to sleep in?" Once more, his words caught me unawares. My eyes widened at the dilemma.

"All I have is my own bed," I replied, slightly embarrassed. "I don't even have a couch." Trunks raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He did, however, have one when I offered gallantly, "You can have my bed." At that, he snorted derisively.

"A university lecturer like yourself needs his beauty sleep, Goten." In return, I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not getting any sleep tonight anyways," I pointed out, nodding towards the clock in my study that read 4:35 AM. Trunks looked slightly startled at the time, then grinned, a trifle sheepish.

"I suppose you're right," he said. He began to say something else, but his words were cut off by a loud yawn. I chuckled.

"Looks like someone other than me needs his beauty sleep," I gently teased. Trunks smirked back.

"Someone such as I needs no beauty sleep. If I grow any handsomer, all women would leave their husbands for me. And some men too, I gather," he added, the atypical glow from before shining in his eyes once more. Yet again, I blinked, and then decided he was joking.

"And I'm sure you'd go after the men, eh Briefs?" I questioned sardonically, not at all expecting his reaction of my words.

Trunks's eyes darkened, and he glared at me, looking so much like Vegeta it was unnerving. His slender hands were knuckled white as he curled them into balled fists. His entire stance was aggressive and defensive as he stared angrily at me.

"You say that as if liking guys is a bad thing, something to be despised," Trunks growled, his voice harsh with so many emotions that I could only pick out a couple of them. Anger. Bitterness. Hurt.

I stared at him in shock, automatically taking a step backwards from his fury-- at me.

"T-Trunks-" He brushed my stammer away with a livid wave of his hand, his eyes narrowed almost to slits as he glared heatedly at me.

He was even angrier than the time he had hit me, over eight years ago. That didn't bode well. Not well at all.

"Now do you see why I didn't go back?" His voice rose until he was practically screaming at me. "Now do you see why? They'll shun me! They'll disown me, like they didn't have a chance to eight years ago! I can't go back even if I want to!" His raging quieted then, and he simply stared defiantly at me, the fury that had tensed his body flowing to simply reside in his blazing sapphire eyes. Feeling suddenly dizzy, I opened my mouth to speak, but once more he interrupted me, this time his words quiet and determined. "And I really don't want to go back just to be judged by small-minded idiots. I'm damn proud of liking guys." He took a deep breath, anger replaced by something like regret. "I'm sorry if you don't approve of my lifestyle, though. I'll leave."

With that, Trunks Briefs turned to vanish from my life for the second time-- this time forever.

Just as it had those eight years earlier, my body and instincts took control. Before he could pass through the exit of the study towards the kitchen and to outside, I strode forward and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, pinning him in place.

This time I would make sure he stayed was my only thought as I forced him to turn and face me. For a long moment I didn't speak, only stared in a mixture of distress and wonder into his eyes. The anger had vanished, leaving only sorrow and loss and a bright sheen that could only be withheld tears.

Trunks was trying not to _cry_?

"Let me go," he rasped out, angrily bringing his trembling hands up to dash the trace of tears away from his eyes. "I come here after eight years to try and say I'm sorry, and now I'm going to leave again just because I like guys. Can't you see this is hard enough as it is, you asshole? Or do you really want me to punch you again?" His voice was shaking slightly, but it held the same iron will that it always had. Against my will, I smiled, my hands never leaving his shoulders.

Maybe, before, I hadn't been tired when thinking about how Trunks looked. And maybe there was something to the fact that I was over thirty and had only had one relationship with a woman, a relationship that had crashed and burned. I'd think about all that later.

Right now all I wanted to do was calm my friend down.

"And I'd deserve it, as before," I half-whispered, half-sighed as I recalled my earlier betrayal. His narrowed eyes widened slightly in confusion before he roughly tried to shove my hands from his shoulders.

"Get off!" he practically screamed, his voice threatening to crack as more traitorous tears appeared in his eyes. "Just let me go, you stupid asshole, so I can leave!"

"Briefs, when the hell did I ever say I hated gays?" I wanted to know, tightening my grip on his shoulders until my knuckles were white. I was so out of shape I knew my grasp wouldn't hurt him, even as colorless as my knuckles were at the moment.

Trunks blinked, looking bewildered. "B-but you sounded-" he began falteringly, and then trailed off, still blinking in confusion as a single tear traced its way down his cheek. He no longer attempted to brush my hands from his shoulders, and simply stood there, dumbfounded.

I felt my lips twitch upwards for a moment, then settle into a straight line. Unconsciously bringing one hand upwards to wipe away that tear, I locked gazes with him.

"I think you most definitely need some sleep, pal," I commented softly. "I happen to be friends with many gays." I cracked a smile. "Most of them are the nicest people I know." I tried for a joke, even though it was a lame one. "I shouldn't be surprised, you know." He raised a half-mocking eyebrow. "All the handsome guys are gay or taken. It's a fact of life."

Trunks managed a weak smile and sighed heavily, the movement making my hand, which still rested on his cheek, rise and fall slightly. "Maybe you're right. On all counts." He noticed my hand and reached up to pull it down, the warmth of his fingers heating my own.

"Trunks," was the only word I spoke aloud before my breath suddenly caught.

His eyes were glowing with the peculiar light again, but this time I could identify the emotions that made his gaze smolder. Lust. Love. Longing. Trying to catch my breath, I repeated his name, albeit weakly.

"Goten," the words were breathed from his lips before they gently pressed against my own, their warmth a caress. My eyes fluttered close at the sensation as I leaned into it.

Not gay, eh? Well, let me rephrase that. I hadn't had any homosexual feelings before this night, at least ones I hadn't recognized as such.

Our lips still connected, our fingers still entwined, I didn't resist as he drew me closer to him. A shiver ran up my spine as our bodies met, and his lips pressed down harder, with more passion.

I responded, kissing fiercely back, my free hand sliding around his waist, and the other releasing his to wrap around his neck. The passion that swallowed me was nearly overwhelming as his lips pressed ardently onto my own.

By all means, I had kissed other people; hell, I had slept with Paresu, but this felt so right, so...

Absolutely perfect.

We pulled away briefly, to catch our breath, my eyes opening slightly to see him smiling at me.

"I guess you really don't mind gays," he chuckled, smirking devilishly. I laughed breathlessly, sidling closer.

"Damn straight. Or rather, not straight," I replied. This time it was my turn to lock our lips, and I eagerly complied. His hands appeared from nowhere to tenderly knead my lower back. I leaned into the touch, the soft moan that exited my mouth quietly breathed into his. His lips curved slightly at the sound, moving my lips into that position with his, then his tongue gently slid through my open lips, the fiery invasion burning its journey in all directions, from the top of my mouth to entwine with my tongue. I groaned at the sensation. My entire body shuddered as I clung to him, a quiet whimper escaping my lips when he finally broke the kiss, his pale face now flushed.

"Come on, professor," he whispered, his full lips just barely brushing my own as he spoke, azure gaze locked with mine. "You haven't shown me your entire house."

Taking in a lungful of air, I laughed lightly.

"Then let me show you, Briefs," I assured him, and, my hands slipping from around his neck to grab his own, proceeded to tug him in the direction of the most desirable place in the world at this moment for me, and most likely for him.

My bedroom.

 


	4. Chapter Four

_He can't remember a time  
When he felt needed  
If love was red then he was color-blind  
All his friends they've been tried for treason  
And crimes that were never defined  
He's saying  
Love is like a barren place  
And reaching out for human faith  
Is like a journey I just don't have a map for  
So baby gonna take a dive and push the shift to overdrive  
Send a signal that he's hanging all his hopes on the stars  
(What a pleasant dream) just saying_

__I stirred slowly, momentarily confused until the memories of the day's earlier events rushed back to me. A soft grin toying with my lips, I opened my eyes to gaze at my lover.

Lover. I suppressed the grin even more, fighting back a laugh so not to wake him.

Trunks was sleeping, a relaxed smile gracing his wonderful lips. 

Careful not to disturb him, I stayed still as I was content to watch the slow, regular rise and fall of his chest as he dreamed.

It was only then that I was aware of the slightly uncomfortable feeling in my lower form. I squirmed slightly, not wanting to disturb Trunks, but wanting to get rid of the sore throbbing that steadily grew stronger.

My efforts were in vain, however, as my fidgeting quickly woke him.

Stirring slowly, his eyelids opened to reveal sleep-glazed blue.

"Goten?" My name was accompanied by a luxurious stretch, the bedspread slipping slightly to reveal attractive flesh. I quickly focused my eyes onto his smile.

I _did_ need to go to the university today, after all.

"Yes, Trunks?" I replied innocently, unable to keep the goofy grin off my face.

"You are a really good kisser. For _straight_ guy, that is." His tone was teasing as he reached out with one muscled arm to draw me back towards him.

"You're a pretty good kisser yourself," I tossed back. "For a guy, that is." Trunks smirked devilishly.

"I can do better," was his boastful response. I raised an eyebrow, grinning more than slightly wickedly back.

"Oh really?"

"Really," Trunks assured me, and proceeded to prove it and help me momentarily forget about my aching.

Curled up against Trunks's broad chest, I sleepily yawned.

"Looks like neither of us got any beauty sleep," I declared, smiling as I rested my cheek against his warm shoulder. Trunks chuckled and my entire frame moved in tune to his laughter.

"That seems to be true," he admitted. My cheek still on his right shoulder, I peered at the clock. 7:46 AM. Luckily, my class was at three o'clock in the afternoon today. I only taught eight classes of Japanese mythology. Once a day two days a week, and two classes the other three days. Of course, each class held at least thirty to fifty students, so I had over three hundred students. When it was time for exams, that was a _lot_ of reading. Which was why I gave the ten page essays so rarely. Doing so meant I had to read thousands of pages, which was never fun.

"What time are your classes?" Trunks questioned, jerking me from my thoughts. I moved my cheek from his shoulder to peer into his face, smiling. When I told him that I only had one at three, he grinned smugly.

"Excellent," he commented, giving me a gentle kiss on the forehead. I sighed softly at the sensation. Even that one press of his lips upon my brow was enough to make me hunger for more.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him, realizing that we weren't going to get out of bed otherwise. Trunks cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful.

"A little," he admitted with a grin. "But not very. Why, are you?"

"No. Just making sure you weren't." Trunks smirked widely.

"How sweet," he mildly teased, planting an additional kiss on my forehead, his warm, gentle fingers massaging my skin as he brushed some stray locks of hair away from my eyes. I smiled at the tender and soft touch, and wrapped my arms around his neck, finding irresistible the feel of flesh against flesh. Especially mine against Trunks's.

"Tell me when you're hungry. I'll make waffles." Trunks snorted with amusement.

"The last time you made waffles, my dear professor, is when we were in seventh grade, and afterwards your mother banned us from even being in the kitchen when she was cooking. Have you really improved that much?"

"It'll be the stuff in a box kind. Not made from scratch," I informed him, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

"Good. I have no intention of dying today," he teased, and I grinned.

"I wasn't that bad at cooking, Trunks." Trunks raised an eyebrow, and I added reluctantly, "Well, I'm not anymore, that is. And only a couple mice died last time. And that's because they nibbled our waffles and ruined them!"

"Luckily," Trunks muttered, and I playfully kicked him in the shin. To which he kicked me back, and it quickly evolved into a pretend wrestling fight that concluded with me pinned underneath him, laughing into his face.

"What's so funny?" he mock-growled at me, trying to look angry but only looking amused. I chuckled.

"The only reason why you won is because I haven't sparred in at least seven years." Trunks raised an eyebrow, a smile playing with his lips.

"Of course. You're a professor. Why should a professor spar? Especially since everyone's in Japan." I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe we could spar sometime," he suggested, the glint in his eyes suggesting that there'd be more than just a match.

"If you want to." The instinct to smile back when he did was undeniable, and I felt my lips curve in a happy grin.

Trunks didn't move from above me, as I thought he was going to. Instead, one of his evil smiles formed on his face, and his eyes lit up. I sighed, only slightly annoyed. By now, I knew what that look meant.

"Trunks-" I began, but then his lips were on mine, pressing hard with passion, claiming me. My arms, which had been eagle spread from the wrestling, moved forward to encircle his form and bring him down on me. He eagerly complied, and the rest of the morning was spent in desire beneath the sweat-soaked sheets.

"How about I make you breakfast?" Trunks suggested, lifting his hand to gently brush a sweaty lock out of my face. I grinned, noticing it was afternoon.

"A little late for that, Trunks. How about lunch instead?" He smiled.

"I can do that," he agreed, at last getting out of the bed and leaving me oddly wistful. My eyes indiscreetly followed him as he pulled on his clothes, studying him from behind dark lashes. Turning, he caught my gaze before I could look away. As I flushed, he chuckled in amusement.

"Haven't you gotten bored of me yet?" he mildly teased. The words were out before I could stop them.

"I'll never get tired of you." Trunks threw back his head and roared with laughter. Against my will, more blood rushed to my face, turning it a dark crimson.

"Well, I won't!" I declared, crossing my arms and attempting to pout, trying not to let on how embarrassed I was at sounding like a romance novel. Trunks's laughter subsided, but he was still grinning broadly.

"Red suits you, Chibi," were the only words he spoke, and then he was out of the room before I could say a word. A few seconds after the door shut with a quiet click, my indignant yell followed him.

"Don't call me that!" He didn't bother replying, and I shook my head as I pulled on my official uniform, as professors were required to wear them to the university.

Cursing at the cumbersome tie (I had never quite gotten the knack of tying the damn things) until it finally looked all right, I headed out towards the kitchen, where Trunks awaited me.

"Took you long enough," he commented teasingly, already seated at the table and devouring his own meal.

"What's the use of ties anyway?" I replied, sliding into the chair across from him. He smirked, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Just one of the reasons I didn't want to be President."

"An extremely good reason indeed." Watching him smile faintly, I dug into the large bowl of soup with vigor. Yum... It was chicken and noodles, my favorite. To tell the truth, all food was my favorite. Except perhaps spinach...

"Chibi, close your mouth," Trunks abruptly said, jerking me from my thoughts. I blinked at him before snapping back to reality.

"Sorry," I said, once more blushing, "I'm not used to visitors. And don't call me Chibi!" He chuckled and didn't reply, draining his coffee mug with a long swallow. I raised an eyebrow.

"Chicken soup and coffee?"

"Hey, that's all you have in your cupboards." My eyes widened.

"Really?" When he nodded, I leapt from my chair and dashed to the refrigerator. Sure enough, there was no food in the food container at all. "Damn. Guess I need to go to the store. I will on the way home from work."

"I'll get the groceries." I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow for the second time in a short time.

"Do you even know where the store is?" I questioned dryly. Trunks smirked, as usual.

"I know where your university is, where your store is, hell even where you bought your car. By the way, that thing is a piece of junk."

"It is not!" I denied, defending my car's honor. So what if it was almost ten years old. It could still run-- usually. Well, sometimes I had to fly to work, but that was beside the point.

"Is too," Trunks countered. "You can use my bike. I know you know how to ride her." I choked on the coffee I had just swallowed.

"Her?" I gasped out. "I thought you only gave feminine characteristics to ships."

"No, you call cars and bikes girls too," said Trunks, sounding slightly amused at my ignorance. "Her name is Seele."

"Isn't seele German for soul?" He nodded, this time looking pleased at my knowledge. "And I haven't ridden a motorcycle for nearly ten years. Not since we got arrested that time." Trunks rolled his eyes.

"I still say the officer punched me first," he mumbled, not meeting my eyes. I grinned mischievously.

"But only because you insulted his mother."

"How was I supposed to know she really was fat?" Trunks demanded defensively, and then grinned at his words. "And he was a bastard anyway. No one hits me and gets away with it."

"Yeah, he was," I agreed, falling back into memories.

. . .

"You know, this is all your fault," I commented, surveying the blazing inferno. Trunks cocked an eyebrow towards me, looking innocent.

"How so?" At his innocent tone, I snorted.

"You're the one who stole the fucking motorcycle!"

"You're the one who crashed it," he quickly countered.

"Because you distracted me!" Trunks couldn't hide his smirk, and I halfheartedly punched him as a policeman stalked up to us.

"Are you Briefs Trunks and Son Goten?" We both nodded. "I'm going to have to ask you both to lay down on the ground." Trunks and I exchanged looks.

"Why?" Trunks questioned. "Do you want to feel us up or something?" Against my better judgment I snickered as the cop's eyes narrowed.

"You both are under arrest. I suggest you comply with my orders, boy." That froze Trunks's smirk. No one but his father called him 'boy' and got away with it.

"If you want to exchange insults, _sir_, then let me warn you that I am an expert at them," he said coldly. At the police officer's snort, he continued in a low, amused tone, but I saw the evil gleam in his eyes. "How old are you?" The officer was taken aback and then scowled, his hand drifting towards the black stick that all police carried.

"That's none of your business!" he snapped.

"Trunks-" I began, then sighed as he ignored me, his eyes on the policeman.

"I bet you still live with your mother. I'm guessing you're twenty-five, thirty? What a joke. And I'll wager that your mother's fat too. As fat as a cow." The police officer's eyes narrowed and he yanked the black stick from its holder. At that, the passenger door to the police car opened and another man, looking old enough to be my grandfather, stepped out. Against the inferno's flames, I could tell he was scowling.

"Horoni!" the older officer called. "Do you need assistance?" Horoni continued to glare at Trunks and didn't reply for a long moment. At last, he did, his voice quite calm.

"If you have anything that would teach these two some manners, it would be greatly appreciated." I blinked.

"I didn't do anything!" I protested, and cringed slightly as Horoni turned his dark gaze to glower at me.

"I have told you both to assume the position. Now do it!" His voice rose slightly, and immediately his partner started towards us.

"And besides you were the one driving the bike, Goten!" Trunks reminded me. I frowned at him.

"You're the one who distracted me!" I griped once more. Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to Horoni.

"I bet your mom _is_ fat. Even fatter than a cow-" Horoni dropped his stick and punched Trunks across the face. The half Saiya-jinn didn't even blink, and smirked.

"Pathetic human," he commented, sounding almost frighteningly like Vegeta.

"Trunks-" I sighed as Trunks sent the officer flying. Watching the two hurl punches at each other and Trunks easily beating the shit out of the older man, I turned to flash a weary smile towards the other officer, who had bolted over.

"Do you want me to separate them?"

"Yes," he said, watching as my best friend threw Horoni dangerously near the roaring inferno that had once been a really nice motorcycle. The fire illuminated his dark green eyes as he half-smiled at me. "But afterwards, I have to arrest you." I blinked at him, and then shrugged without much anger. Mom would be furious enough for the both of us.

"Fine by me. But you really should teach that Horoni guy how to control his temper. If Trunks wanted to, he could kill him."

"Believe me, we will," sighed the older man, and I headed off to save Horoni.

. . .

"Whatever happened to him?" I wondered aloud, causing another evil smile to form on Trunks's face.

"Horoni was fired after only being an officer for three months. After spending a couple months in a hospital, he moved out of the country to become a fireman or something like that. His partner, Herrlich, was kept on the force, since he hadn't done anything. Last I heard he was still a police officer." I nodded.

We had spent the night in jail, altogether an unpleasant experience. Various women and men had hit on me, much to Trunks's amusement. Of course, then they had ganged up on him, and it had been my turn to laugh. We had been royally yelled at by our mothers, though both Vegeta and Goku had been amused. Maybe it was a Saiya-jiin rite of passage deal. As soon as we had managed to get back to college, Marron was there to yell at us. We had had to perform numerous community service shit, mostly due to the help of Bulma's wonderful lawyers, and Trunks had paid off the man whose bike we had stolen. Yes, that had been an enormous scandal back then. But then Trunks had disappeared. That had been the biggest scandal of the decade...

"So, you can borrow Seele." I blinked, realizing I had been staring at my soup bowl for quite some time.

"Sure, thanks."

"And try not to crash it." I looked up, giving him the evil eye.

He only laughed.

"What's so interesting about my study?" I questioned, enjoying my position in his lap. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm on my ear as he spoke.

"Well, it has a couch for one." I smiled, raising one hand to brush his hair out of his face. He made a face at the babying motion, but I grinned. After all, he had done the same thing numerous times for me.

"So, what did you do in those eight years? Besides learn English, I mean," I stated curiously. Trunks stiffened slightly, and I raised an eyebrow at the tension in his frame.

"Nothing important," he said at last. I snorted.

"Bullshit," I declared. "What kind of jobs did you do? C'mon..."

"Nothing," he repeated firmly, and then suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me in even closer. His lips, soft velvet, caressed my jaw as they pressed down with passion.

"No fair!" I protested even as I leaned into the kisses. "You're changing the subject-- Hey--" His fingers did there magic as my protests died quickly. I knew he was smirking even without seeing his face.

"You've stopped objecting, haven't you?" he murmured as his lips tracked their way down my neck. And indeed I had.

Dressed in another suit (Trunks had tied the tie for me), I jokingly saluted him.

"I'll get the groceries," I informed him. "I don't trust you with my car. You'd probably blast it to hell." His only response was a sheepish grin.

"All right," he said, leaning forward and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have fun at the university and try not to scar any of them _too_ badly." I impishly stuck my tongue out at him, which he laughingly returned.

Slipping on Trunks's helmet, which was a pale blue that almost matched his eyes, I smirked at him. Of course, nothing could match that exact, perfect hue.

"Try not to destroy the car or the house while I'm gone," I admonished. He looked crestfallen as I shut the visor.

"Fine..." His jokingly rebellious grumble brought an even bigger grin to my face.

"Bye, Trunks!" I said and kicked up the brake, starting the motorcycle- Seele- with a rumbling roar. With a jerk forward I was off, speeding down the dirt road and leaving a huge dust cloud behind me.

"Bye, Chibi!" was the last thing I heard as I rounded the bend and headed off to work. Stifling my protests with a bite of my lip, I decided that I could wait until later to get him to cease calling me that ridiculous nickname. This time it was _my_ lips that formed an evil smirk. And I knew just the way to do it too...

Soon, very soon, Trunks would have our positions reversed. Maybe I'd even manage to find out what exactly he'd been doing for the last couple of years...

 


	5. Chapter Five

_I would fly you to the moon and back_

__ _If you'll be if you'll be my baby _

__ _Got a ticket for a world where _

__ _We belong _

__ _So would you be my baby _

__ _Ooh-ooh_

__I zipped down the road, ignoring the furious honking of my fellow drivers. So what if I was weaving through traffic? It was fun! I narrowly avoided slamming into the side of a red vehicle, chuckling as its driver screamed profanities. By the time I turned onto the road in front of the university, I had even learned a couple new words.

I roared to a stop into my private parking spot, the students who happened to be walking to their classes immediately rushing to admire the bike. Motorcycles weren't exactly allowed on school grounds, but oh well..

I grinned behind the helmet's visor as one of my students exclaimed loudly, "Damn! That is freaking cool!" One of his companions sighed and whacked him on the back of the head. Ignoring his yelp, she turned to me.

"Excuse me," she said cautiously, "but motorcycles aren't allowed on the premises." I shrugged in reply, and she got a look on her face that said she knew I'd regret my decision.

"Pardon me, but the girl is correct," a cold voice informed me, and I inwardly groaned. Not Gure. The professor glared at me with hard unyielding blue eyes that in no way shape or form reminded me of Trunks, and ran a hand, which was shaking with fury, through his graying dark blue hair. Gure was always one for the rules, except when _he_ decided to break them. "Not only are motorcycles are disallowed on school grounds, but you are also parked in a private parking spot. I urge to you remove the motorbike immediately, and I'll attempt to convince the school council to lower your punishment. If you see fit to disobey my words, I can assure you that we will have the police escort you off the premises and we will press charges--" I sighed, and raised a hand to silence him. He ignored me, continuing in the same vein as the students behind his back pretended to gag. I couldn't help but grin, glad that my visor hid my expression. "Now, will you leave the grounds, or will I have to call security?" I opened my visor slightly so that only my mouth was visible, which was curved in an amused grin. Gure's longwinded speeches always entertain me. Especially when he used big words to sound smart.

"Well, Gure, I would leave, but I think I won't," I informed the professor. He scowled, hands on hips as one of the students behind him gave me a thumbs-up sign. No one I knew liked Gure. He always stated his own opinions in class, which was the only rule he ever broke. (Our college had the unusual rule of not being allowed to state our opinions. Apparently there had been a scandal between a teacher and a student several years before I had arrived, but I'm not certain of the details.) Gure didn't exactly help his reputation any either by being blatantly homophobic and a bigot.

"And why not?" In reply, I grinned the familiar Son grin and lifted the helmet off my head.

"Because how else I would teach class?" I replied cheerfully, savoring the look of shock on Gure's face. He and I weren't exactly the best of friends. It was well known of our enmity since I had been accepted as a professor here.

"S-Son."

"Gure." I acknowledged him with a nod. "I'd love to stay but I do have class to teach!" With that, I leapt off the bike and tucked the helmet under my arm, whistling nonchalantly as I did so.

"I'm reporting you to the school council! You are breaking a rule that applies to both students and professors! You knew it was! I'm making sure that machine is going to be impounded." I scowled slightly at that.

"My car broke down, as always, Gure. You know what a piece of shit it is." The curse word flowed easily from my lips. God, I was going to enjoy this day. I had never cursed in front of any of my students, but I had a feeling that none of them really gave a damn about cursing. Dende knows they used enough of it themselves. "What was I supposed to do, walk to school?"

"Where did you get that machine?" His voice had raised a notch, and I raised an eyebrow in question, seriously wondering if he was going to ignore the laws of the university for once and punch me like I knew he had always wanted to.

"It's a friend's. If you didn't realize it, Gure, I actually have a life outside teaching. And it isn't a machine. _Her_ name is Seele and _she_ is a motorcycle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to lecture on Japanese mythology, as always." Leaving the older man red-faced and sputtering, I gestured towards a couple of my students to follow me and headed off to my classroom.

"Good afternoon, Professor Son," the class called out as I sat down at my desk, as I always did. This time, however, I didn't reply with my normal 'hello class, how was your day?' speech.

"Konnichiwa, class! In case you didn't know, konnichiwa is Japanese for hello. How many of you speak or are learning Japanese?" Two or three hands rose, and I grinned. "Excellent! Now, does anyone care to explain why the Japanese culture is so important to the world nowadays?" A tentative hand was raised and I beamed at the foreign exchange student. "Go ahead, Curtis."

"Is it because the Japanese are one of the leading companies in the trade throughout the world?" I grinned, clapping loudly.

"That's a major part of the reason. Well done, Curtis!" The quiet Brit smiled faintly and sat back down as the student next to him gave him a cheerful thump to the shoulder and congratulated him. "Any other ideas? Angelo?" The thumper looked startled as Curtis smirked beside him.

"Er. Because Japan has such a rich history and everyone wants to learn about it?" I chuckled merrily, shaking my head.

"I don't think that was a main reason, but it sounds good to me. Of course, I'm slightly biased. At any rate, besides Curtis's reason, there is also the fact that Japan is the main source of tourists for the planet. Japanese sightseers can be found practically everywhere. England, France, Germany, Turkey, Austria, Switzerland, Argentina, America, etc. If we're so interested about your cultures, shouldn't you at least try to learn a little about our culture?"

"Our?" I blinked, and then grinned sheepishly. Professors weren't supposed to be put their own opinions, experiences, or lives into their lectures, as I had mentioned. Part of the rule Gure loved to break.

"I apologize. If the Japanese are so interested about other cultures, shouldn't others try to at least learn about their culture?" Most of my class simply gawked at me. Before I had always lectured them about mythology, keeping the discussions focused on legends, not modern day. Truth be told, I suspected I was usually quite boring, although the students did enjoy my sense of humor occasionally and laid back style of giving homework. They especially enjoyed the fact that they never had to learn anything. I caught sight of Angelo staring at me, eyes narrowed. I stared back and when he didn't look away, I cleared my throat. "Do you have something to say, Angelo?"

"You got laid last night." His words were a statement, not a question. The brusqueness of the statement caught me off guard and I flushed heatedly before regaining my composure.

"That's person and not something we're discussing in class, Angelo," I said quickly, unsuccessfully trying to force my blood from my face, which I knew was bright crimson.

"You did!" Angelo crowed, dark brown eyes bright with glee. "Professor Son got laid!" My blush deepened, and some of the students laughed at my obvious embarrassment.

"Angelo!" The Italian grinned impishly, much like I had looked when I had smirked at Gure.

"What?" he asked, batting his eyes innocently.

"It's none of your business whether I have a sex life or not. Now, let's get on with class." But now the entire class was leaning forward, all looking like the sex-hungry youth they were.

"C'mon Professor! This is the best news we've heard all month!" I blinked at that, slightly confused.

"The best news, Aldo?" The Sicilian nodded rapidly.

"If _you_ can get laid, anyone can!" he declared as the entire class burst into laughter. I bolted upright from my chair, indignant.

"What do you mean by that?" I protested. "I'm not ugly! And I've been informed that I'm a very good kisser!" My pupils continued to snicker and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up. Every one of you!" After a few more minutes, the class settled down, broad grins still plastered across their faces. I sat on the top of my desk, and immediately wished I hadn't as the old ache came back. I leapt off the school desk instantly, turning crimson once more. Several students looked blank at my action, but I thought I saw Curtis's eyes widen briefly. Brushing it off as mere paranoia, I stood before the class.

"Anyway," I began, hands clasped behind my back, "as I was-"

"Did you really come to school on a bike?" Angelo blurted out, looking excited. I rolled my eyes once more.

"Yes. It belongs to a friend." I was very proud of myself as I managed not to redden this time.

"_The_ friend?" I inwardly cursed as the blush returned in full force. "Heh, I'll take that as a yes."

"Angelo, sit down and shut up!" I snapped, though my words held no true venom in them. The Italian smirked and sat down, lazily letting his head fall onto Curtis's shoulder. The Brit rolled his eyes but ignored him.

"Did you actually get into a fight with Gure?" someone questioned in the back. I smiled a slightly malicious smile. Okay, more than slightly.

"Yes. He didn't seem to like the idea of Seele. The motorcycle," I added the last sentence quickly as some of the pupils grinned evilly.

"Is it true you two hate each other?"

"Well," I said thoughtfully, deciding that since I had screwed most of the rules today anyway that I might as well break one more, "as many of you know, Gure is quite proud of that fact that he is sexist and homophobic." Several students nodded, and both Curtis and Angelo flinched, making me slightly curious. Clearing my throat, I continued. "I don't agree with his ideas and he greatly dislikes me for that, just as I dislike him for being a bigot and being afraid of homosexuals, who are regular people. I'm not certain if our mutual dislike is strong enough to be hate, but yes, we dislike each other." The pupil who had asked the question snorted.

"Yeah, you two hate each other..." I merely shrugged, knowing that all my words were bullshit and that I loathed the homophobic bastard.

"So, was she good in bed?" another student wanted to know, switching topics.

"She? Couldn't the professor have slept with a he?" Curtis wanted to know, making Angelo look up questioningly. I stared at the Englishman, my eyes round. Damn. Why did I have to have the quick-witted ones in my class?

"Well, I think it's time to get back to Japanese mythology," I informed the class quickly as they all groaned. "Now, let's see, we were talking about Benzaiten, the goddess of love." I trailed off, mentally groaning as Angelo snickered. Was Dende laughing at me up on Kami's Lookout? Probably.

"Well class, the bell's about to ring, so you all can head off," I declared, my legs extremely tired from exertion. Since I hadn't been able to sit down for obvious reasons, I had wandered around the room the entire period. That coupled with the ache had been the most exercise I had had in years. Cheering, the students quickly disappeared from the classroom. I sighed happily, going to my desk to grab a notebook. A trip to the grocery store, and I'd be able to be back at home with Trunks.

"Professor?" I silently groaned, turning to face the two remaining students.

"Yes Angelo? Curtis?" Curtis had the same smirk on from before, while Angelo merely fidgeted, looking self-conscious.

"You said one of the reasons you hated Gure was because he was homophobic," Curtis said softly. 

"Yes, what of it?" I snapped, knowing that Trunks was waiting for me. And I wasn't sure how the university would react if they found about my sexuality.

"Well, we guessed that meant you were friends with some. And if you are, you might know where to go for counseling," stated Angelo, equally quiet. He looked up at Curtis, and they shared a look before he continued. "You see, Curtis and I have been together for a couple of months and when we told our parents they didn't exactly react favorably." I blinked, not expecting that at all. After a moment of shock, I smiled kindly.

"I know where there are some counseling centers near here." I rifled through one of the drawers in my desk. "Some students about three years back had the same dilemma, and I helped them find a center. As far as I know, they're still together. Live in Rome." Angelo looked more like his old cheerful self as he grinned brightly.

"Thanks Professor! You're the best." I chuckled.

"Oh, not the best, Angelo."

"Well, you're the only one who calls us by our first names. That's cool. And you've got the easiest class-" The Italian was silenced as Curtis quickly elbowed him. I merely smiled.

"Easiest class, eh? And Tr-" I barely managed to catch myself in time, blushing until I knew even my ears were pink. Even if they would approve of my choice, I had a feeling Trunks wouldn't appreciate me telling about him to some of my students. "And my friend said that I left my students with mental scars."

"Oh, you do," Angelo joked as I felt Curtis's curious gaze boring into my head as I bent to pull the flyer out of my lowest drawer.

"Here you go. This lists all the centers near here. I'm afraid, however, that the nearest one is about twenty minutes away. I apologize for the inconvenience," I stated, offering them both a rueful smile.

"Hey, it's better than nothing. Thank you, Professor," declared Angelo, shrugging as he grabbed the leaflet and dragged Curtis from the room.

"Anytime!" I shook my head, chuckling quietly. That had been unexpected. Still laughing, I gathered my things and headed out to Seele.

I whizzed down the road, the ten bags of groceries tied tightly to the seat and pressing uncomfortably against my back. Gritting my teeth, I swore that next time I was using the car to get groceries, no matter what condition it was in. I was so busy grumbling that I didn't notice the animal in the road until it was almost too late.

Cursing, I swerved violently to the left, barely avoiding the damn beast. The motorcycle squealed and began to turn over, with me still on it. Desperately, I threw myself off the bike as it flipped. I hit the ground painfully, rolling and continuing to roll. My momentum was stopped only when I rolled off the road and into a tree. Yelping in pain, I laid still, wincing. Fuck. Groaning, I stood, swaying slightly as my back muscles complained loudly, even more so than my ass. Rubbing my lower back, I limped over to the overturned bike. Glaring at it, I was relieved to note that somehow the groceries had managed to stay intact. Still cursing, I remounted and took off for home. I was almost there, thank Dende; if I didn't see Trunks within five minutes, I was going to scream.

I had been driving for about three more minutes before the fact that I might have scratched Seele occurred to me. Cursing once more, I stopped and moved to check on the motorcycle.

"Aww.. Shit. Trunks is going to kill me.." I groaned, looking in horror at the scrape on the side. Rubbing the back of my neck, I cursed for a couple more minutes before glumly getting onto the bike and driving home at a much slower pace. I hoped Trunks wouldn't be too mad..

I was struggling to carry four grocery bags when Trunks waltzed from the house, clad in only jeans. Ooh, boy.. Just the sight of his bare chest was making me forget about my aching.

"Let me help you with that, Chibi," he chuckled, padding barefoot over to the motorcycle. He had just scooped two bags into his arms when he saw the scratch and dropped them. I heard the crack of a dozen egg shells as the bags hit the ground. "What the hell?" The look on his face was one of shock, and I knew mine was of misery.

"I crashed. There was a damn animal in the road, and I swerved.." I trailed off, sounding wretched even to my own ears.

"Shit." Trunks had fallen to his knees, his fingers tracing the long scratch. "Seele.." The look had shifted to one of anguish, his lips thin and white as he clenched his teeth. He really did love that bike. I didn't know why, but he did.

And I had desecrated it..

Unable to help myself, I fled into the house, still clutching the groceries. Dropping the bags onto the table, I moved to escape to my bedroom. I just needed to calm down, and being near Trunks and seeing his anguish over what I had done wouldn't soothe me one bit.

I was at my bedroom door when he caught up with me, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around to face him. God, what déjà vu, only our places were reversed. I was the one trying not to cry, and he was the one smiling.

"Come on, Goten, stop crying. I can redo Seele's paint job."

"But I was the one who messed it up, I should pay for it," I protested, earning Trunks's raised eyebrow.

"Can you pay for it?"

"Well, no, but-" He shut me up with a kiss, gentle but firm.

"Don't worry about it, Chibi," he murmured, once he broke the kiss. "I'll fix her up. I probably have more money than you do."

"Well," I began in defense of my lack of wealth, "I had the entire lawn sculptured and all that-" Trunks kissed me again, this time pressing up against me to remind me that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Why don't we get the rest of the groceries?"

"You broke the eggs," I couldn't help but remind him, even as he grinned roguishly and dragged me down the hallway.

"Eh, I haven't had eggs for breakfast in years. Another week or so won't kill me."

I fixed a meal for us. A pathetic excuse for one, I won't lie. It was a microwave dinner sort of thing. But I didn't burn it, and we ate it in the kitchen, Trunks occasionally plopping his feet in my lap just to watch my reaction.

"How was your day?" he asked as we ate. I grinned immediately, trying to ignore the fact that his left foot was rubbing against my thigh.

"Well, I got to piss a fellow teacher off because of Seele."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Definitely. One, he's an ass. Two, he's homophobic. Three, he's an ass. Four, he's sexist. Five, he's an ass. Six, he hates my guts. Did I mention he's an ass?"

Trunks chuckled and shook his head at me. "Why no, I don't believe you did. So he's homophobic, he's a sexist, and he hates you. My, he does sound marvelous." He cocked his head to the side and had an odd look on his face before he smiled once more and continued. "What else happened?"

"Well, I had two of my students ask me for fliers for a gay counseling center."

Trunks stared for a moment, and then threw back his head and laughed. Once he stopped laughing, he grinned at me. "Bet that hit home for you, didn't it, love?"

"Well, they're nice boys. And I think they know I'm gay or bisexual or whatever I am. At least I think Curtis knows. I'm not so sure about Angelo. He isn't the brightest."

"Hey!" came the muffled protest, and Trunks and I both turned to see Angelo making a face in the kitchen window, Curtis right beside him looking more than slightly self-conscious.

 


	6. Chapter Six

_I would fly you to the moon and back_

__ _If you'll be if you'll be my baby_

__ _Got a ticket for a world where_

__ _We belong_

__ _So would you be my baby_

__ _Ooh-ooh _

__Trunks bolted upright and accidentally knocked his chair to the kitchen floor, his face revealing so many emotions: shock, anger, confusion, protectiveness, panic.

I stood too and placed a restraining hand on Trunks's shoulder, frowning at my students. "Angelo, Curtis, get in here right now!" The blush on Curtis's face deepened until his entire face was red.

"Yes sir," he muttered, and the two disappeared from the window, though it looked as if Angelo was being dragged by his boyfriend. I turned and looked at Trunks, smiling in reassurance.

"Don't worry. Those were the two students I told you about." When he didn't relax and only frowned, I hugged him. "I said, don't worry, Briefs."

"Don't tell them my name," was his soft, strained answer, a tense look on his face.

"All right, what should I call you?" I kept my arms around him, tilting my head to the side to peer up at him. An odd, almost rueful smile formed on his lips.

"Call me Veilchen, Veilchen Reiter."

"What the hell?" I demanded, but he was already slipping from my grasp and padding barefoot towards the front door, where Angelo and Curtis were waiting. "Tr- I mean Veilchen- go put on a shirt!"

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Chibi?" His voice called back even as he opened the door. I rolled my eyes at Angelo's whistle, and then smirked as he yelped, smacked by Curtis no likely.

The three entered the kitchen, Angelo rubbing his head and frowning. All three took a seat as I motioned them to. After I had settled into my seat, I glared sternly at Angelo and Curtis, and spoke in Italian.

"What exactly were you two doing?"

"Spying on you to see who you were sleeping with. Wasn't that obvious?" was Angelo's prompt reply before Curtis smacked him. Wincing and rubbing his head, the Italian smiled and went on. "Besides, no one's ever been to your house. It's kind of tiny, actually."

"That's true," Trunks commented, and I mock-pouted.

"Hey, I'm only a teacher. It's not like I have extra money to spend."

"Who are you, anyway?" Angelo asked Trunks, his bluntness obvious.

"Veilchen Reiter," was Trunks's prompt reply, and the two students blinked.

"That's German, isn't it?"

Trunks smiled, and said something in fluent German. Something, which I couldn't understand, of course, but Curtis smiled and replied in German, though I could detect an accent.

"Do you have any clue what they're saying?" Angelo asked me, blinking.

"No, not at all." Turning my gaze upon the two German-speakers, I added, "How about we go around the table and say what languages we speak? I speak Italian, English, and Japanese."

"I speak German, Italian, and English," Curtis responded, smiling.

"I speak English, German, Italian, Japanese, Spanish, and French," Trunks stated, causing me to blink and gawk at him for a moment. Seven years ago, all he had known was Japanese. When the hell had he learned five other languages fluently?

"I speak Italian." Angelo's comment made Trunks snicker.

"You remind me of someone," he commented, smiling at the Italian. I caught the look in his eyes and groaned.

"Shut up," I grumbled, "accidentally" kicking him beneath the table. He ignored me.

"Who do I remind you of?" Angelo inquired curiously.

"Him." A jerk of a thumb indicated me, and both of my students burst into gales of laughter.

"You mean Professor Son was actually stupid?" Curtis managed to sputter within a few minutes.

"Yeah-- _hey_!" Angelo shoved at his lover, who shoved him back. Within seconds the two were tussling.

"Ah, isn't love grand?" Trunks murmured to me in Japanese. I smirked and pressed my knee against his.

"Of course it is. Especially when you're immature and idiotic," I replied with a grin.

"Were we ever that immature and idiotic?"

"Well, I certainly wasn't." At his skeptical look, I growled and shoved at him.

"You're only proving my point," he commented, smiling and shoving me back. Soon we were also engaged in a scuffle, though ours involved falling out of our chairs and onto the floor.

"Do we have to remind you that you two have guests over?" I looked up, on top of Trunks for a change, and grinned at Angelo.

"Do I have to remind you that you two are both uninvited guests?" Trunks chuckled from under me.

"Get off, Chibi. We'll finish this later." The roguish twinkle in his eyes assured me that we would.

"The _exact _positions, love," I murmured to him in Japanese, and he chuckled as I climbed off him to sit back in my seat.

"Another reason why we're here is that we were hoping you had some books on dealing with parents not reacting well," Curtis said, once Trunks and I had settled back in our chairs.

"Oh, yes, I do, actually. It's in my study. Let me go get it-" I started to rise again, but this time I winced, sore muscles complaining. Instantly, Trunks's hand was on my shoulder, and he was speaking with concern.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." To my utter humiliation, I saw Angelo blink and then look knowingly. My entire face heated up, and I knew I was blushing. And then suddenly I was being slung over Trunks's shoulder and watching Angelo and Curtis stare after us as Trunks walked from the kitchen. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the study, of course," was his calm reply as he entered the aforementioned room. "Now, where's the book?"

"The first bookshelf on the left, third row from the bottom, third book from the door," I said automatically, staring at the door and feeling more than slightly embarrassed at being carried like a sack of potatoes. "You ought to know in advance that this is definitely not a turn-on." Trunks chuckled and didn't reply as he turned and exited the room.

Depositing me in my seat, he handed the book over the table to Curtis. The Brit opened it, and Angelo immediately peeked over his shoulder and his eyes widened.

"Wow, it's got pictures!"

"What?" I squeaked, knowing my eyes were at round as saucers. "What pictures?"

"These," Angelo informed me, yanking the book from Curtis's hands and turning it so that Trunks and I could see some of them.

"Really, Goten, I wonder about you," Trunks commented, looking very smug as I blushed hotly.

"I didn't know those were in there," I insisted, for I really hadn't, but the looks of the trio informed me that they didn't believe me. With a groan, I buried my head in my hands. "I want to go to bed."

"Need me to carry you?" was Trunks's teasing reply, and my only reply was another groan and a mumbled curse word. "Really, I know my parents weren't married when they had me, Chibi, but bastard is such a nasty word to use in that occurrence. They got married later, after all."

"Shut up," I muttered, knowing he was wearing that smirk I knew all too well. "I'm having a beer and going to bed. You can join me later once you've kicked these two out of the house." When Trunks disregarded me and asked Curtis where in England he was from, I whimpered and buried my face in my arms, attempting to ignore them.

~*~

When Curtis and Angelo left an hour later, I still hadn't lifted my face from my arms. Hearing the door close and Trunks's footsteps approach me, I still didn't move, even when a gentle hand lowered to run through my locks.

"Want me to get you that beer?" he murmured, tone soft.

"I bought some wine," I mumbled, deciding a nice glass of wine would be better than a beer. "And some American Coca-Cola that I hear is really good mixed together. Mind doing that?"

"Sure, I'll even try some myself." A few moments later, a cool glass was being pressed on the back of my neck. "Done. Open your eyes and drink up, Chibi." I sat up and blinked as the darkness was replaced by the kitchen lights. Accepting the glass that Trunks held in his hand, I took a sip, watching him taste his and smile. "It's good."

"It's very good," I agreed, enjoying the taste as I took another sip. We drank the glasses in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. When we both had finished, Trunks took both glasses and put them in the sink. I watched him move around, his muscles rippling. "Who's Veilchen Reiter?" He froze in place. "Trunks?"

"No one important. Just a name I've heard before," he finally said, but his tone was distant. I frowned. What the hell was his deal?

"Trunks, I'm not going to tell anyone anything." Even I could tell how defensive my tone was, and he turned to smile softly at me.

"I trust you. I just--" He sighed, and looked momentarily exhausted, and much, much older. "Maybe someday, but not now."

"Fine," I said quietly, not liking his fatigue. "How about we go take a nap together?" A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

"A short nap would be nice."

So we had a catnap. Yes, an actual doze, not foreplay for something else. Who cared if we weren't toddlers? We were both tired, and a nap was ever so enjoyable.. Of course, afterwards we got back into the positions Angelo and Curtis had interrupted us in, but we did have a nap beforehand. Really.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

_Mamma never loved him much_

__ _And daddy never keeps in touch_

__ _That's why he shies away from human affection_

__ _But somewhere in a private place_

__ _He packs his bags for outer space_

__ _And now he's waiting for the right kind of pilot_

__ _To come (and he'll say to him)_

__ _He's saying_

__It was late evening when I opened my eyes, smiling at the look of peace on Trunks's sleeping face. Any lines had disappeared from his delicate flesh, and he seemed years younger with that faint hint of a smile on his lips. I gazed at him beneath my lashes, studying him and evening out my breathing so if he woke, he wouldn't notice that I was awake.

A tendril of lavender fell across his face as he shifted against me, instinctively tightening his grip around my frame. I wanted to move the stubborn lock away since it might wake him, but my arms were pinned in his grasp. Plus, it was rather endearing.

I snuggled closer to him, pressing my cheek against the hollow of his neck and relaxing, enjoying the fact that I was alive and with Trunks. After a few minutes, I found myself about to slip back into dreamland. I smiled and nuzzled his neck one final time before allowing my eyes to completely close. In a few seconds I'd be fast asleep--

"Chibi..." His vocal cords vibrated against my cheek, even though the word was whispered so low my ears could barely pick it up.

"Yes, Trunks?" I murmured quietly back, half-opening my eyes, but he didn't answer. After a moment, I realized his breathing was as deep and even as ever. The other half Saiya-jinn was still sound asleep. When he didn't whisper in his sleep again, I closed my eyes. Just in time for him to start mumbling again.

"Chibi... So sorry..." I lifted my head to gaze at his face, on which a frown now lingered.

"Trunks, Trunks, it's all right." My mutter was meant to be soothing, but instead it seemed to do the opposite. He fidgeted against me, the frown deepening.

"I'm sorry..." I wiggled my arm from his grasp, and gently caressed his cheek, trying to wake him up.

"Shush, Trunks... It'll be fine, really." His jaw flexed against my palm, and then his eyes flew open, the sapphire gaze checking me in place. For a second those eyes were glazed, and then they cleared, filling instead with bewilderment.

"What's goin' on?" His words were slurred from sleep, and I lightly kissed him, attempting to earn a smile.

"You were having a bad dream or something. You kept apologizing," I informed him, causing the frown to deepen even more.

"Did I do anything else?" I shook my head, and the frown lightened just a little, though there was still no hint of a smile on his lips.

"Was it a bad dream?" I snuggled closer to him, my hand finally brushing the stray lock away from his eyes. Trunks looked somber.

"Yes."

"A nightmare?" The hesitation to answer my question was evident as those azure eyes flickered away from mine.

"You could say that," he alleged evasively. Now it was my turn to frown.

"What was it about?" Trunks smiled in a wry sort of way, and brought one of his hands up to catch the hand that was caressing his long locks.

"Nothing to worry you with, Chibi," he murmured before pressing my fingers to his mouth, suckling on my fingertips gently, sensually, distractingly..

"Trunks, this is getting old.." My words died in my throat as his other hand slipped down to caress another place, another very, very reactive place. Damn it, it wasn't fair that Trunks was so good at distracting me! "Trunks!" I was trying to whine, but it came out more as a breathless plea as he flashed me that gods-forsaken smirk of his and continued to stroke and torture me until I couldn't even remember what I had been asking about.

~*~

Afterwards, as he held me in his arms and looked more than a little victorious, I managed to frown at him.

"You're such a cheater." He smirked at me, idly running his fingers through my messy mane.

"Ah, but I'm such a good one, aren't I?" The look on his face was smug, and I couldn't resist the urge to feebly smack him.

"Jerk."

"Ah, but you love me anyway."

"Of course." The answer was automatic but heartfelt, and earned me a gentle smile and a tender kiss. Pressing my forehead against his cheek, I was quiet for a moment, and then ventured to ask, my tone very quiet, "Will you ever tell me what you did during all those years?"

"Someday," was the firm answer as his fingers kept running through sweaty locks, shifting through my dark tresses. I smiled at the decisiveness in his tone.

"I'll hold you to that promise, you know."

"Yeah, I do. Go to sleep Chibi. I'll make us a real breakfast tomorrow."

Still smiling, I attempted to obey, snuggling up against my lover. A real breakfast that didn't involve a ham sandwich sounded wonderful..

~*~

When I awoke, it was to the smell of sizzling bacon. My nostrils twitched in delight at the oh-so-familiar smell as I forced my eyes open, sleepily pulling on a pair of boxers and stumbling in the direction of the kitchen.

Trunks snickered at me as I rubbed my eyes and gawked at the scene. Not only was he flipping bacon, he had already fixed up platefuls of chocolate chip pancakes and bowls of scrambled eggs. My mouth watered at the sight.

"Damn, you are now going to be my all-time cook," I announced, collapsing into a chair and eagerly beginning to stuff my face.

"Only if you promise not to eat my share of breakfast," was Trunks's teasing reply, earning him a rolled pair of eyes in his direction as I put butter on my pancakes and bit into the first piece. A few minutes later, he set down two platefuls of bacon in front of me and sat down to eat his own breakfast. We feasted in silence for a while, downing our meal with sips of coffee, his black and mine sweetened with cream and sugar.

When I finished, I leaned back in my chair, grinning a most likely goofy smile. "Where the hell did you learn to cook like that?"

"I've always been a good chef, Chibi." His prideful tone earned him another pair of rolled eyes.

"So being able to make a grilled cheese sandwich not charred to a crisp makes you a good cook then?" My tone was joking as I grinned at him.

Trunks looked indignant and pointed his fork at me, which was still embedded in a piece of pancake. "You have no idea how delicate making grilled cheese truly is, Chibi. After all, you burned toast."

"I like burned toast. It's nice and crispy," was my repartee as he devoured the pancake piece. He shook his head, looking quite sad.

"You actually believe yourself.. How sad, the way the mind can twist itself that way.." I tossed my napkin at him, and he easily moved his head out of the way. "How mature, Chibi."

"I never, ever said I was mature, Briefs," I informed him, lightly kicking him beneath the table as I took a long swallow of my coffee.

"Touché, professor." Smiling at my victory, I finished my coffee and glanced at the clock. I'd have to head off to school in an hour. When I casually mentioned it out loud, I was surprised at the wistful look that crossed his face. "You have to leave in an hour?" The way he said the question made it seem as if this was the end of the world if I replied with a yes.

Nevertheless, I said yes.

"Do you have to?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you want me to get fired?" A reluctant smile found its way onto his visage.

"No.. I just didn't think you had to leave so soon."

"Well, I have two classes today, so I'll be home the same time I was yesterday. You can go into town and get Seele's scratch fixed." Still, despite my reassurances, the same wistful smile lingered on his mouth.

"All right. I'll get Seele patched up," he murmured, and then made a face at me when I gently patted his cheek.

"You do that, and we'll ride on Seele together. Only this time I'll be the one to distract you but you can keep us from crashing," I informed him, smiling cheekily. I was going to get rid of that melancholy look! He was going to be happy in my house, damn it!

Trunks chuckled, and patted my cheek in return; his fingers were gentle and slow, as if savoring every inch of my flesh his fingertips touched. I stayed still and let his fingers roam, brushing against my cheek, and then my jaw, and finally my mouth, the appendages lingering there for the briefest of instances before he let his hand drop to the table. "Go take a shower and get dressed, Chibi."

Grinning at him, I leapt up and obeyed, managing to convince Trunks to tie my tie once again. He even peeked into my closet and chose an outfit out for me, a pair of black dress pants, with a white top mostly covered by a red sweater that I hadn't worn in years. In the outfit, I looked more like one of the students than one of the teachers. He attempted to comb my damp locks, and finally gave up, patting me on the ass and telling me to get ready to leave.

~*~

As the time to leave came, I stood in front of my house, beaming at the half-dressed man who leaned against my doorway, clutching my briefcase to my chest. I'd be driving my run-down it'd work today.

"C'mere," came Trunks's voice as I turned to venture towards my ancient car. I turned back towards him to see him motioning for me to come back to him. Still grinning, I trotted over to him.

"I have to go to class, Trunk--" He caught me off by gently pulling my head towards his and covering my mouth with his own warm lips. His kiss was gentle, loving, and gradually intensified to a passion that made me weak in the knees. His tongue roamed my mouth once more, tickling the roof and twining with mine. I couldn't help but moan with desire, my eyes half- shutting on their own. The briefcase fell to the ground as I tangled my fingers in his lavender locks, keeping his warm mouth on mine, not caring that I was running out of oxygen. Our mouths and tongues moved against each other's, molding as one for a few minutes. Finally, both of us pulled back, breathing heavily. Trunks's face was flushed, and he was smiling lovingly at me.

"Go to class, Chibi." Untangling my fingers from his hair, I reluctantly scooped my now-dusty briefcase from the ground and stepped away from him, every inch of me wanting to throw myself back in his arms. Damn, now I wished it was a weekend. I hadn't longed for the weekend since I was in college.

"I love you." The words left my lips, soft, quiet. He smiled back at me, his blue eyes gazing into mine.

"I love you too, Chibi. Don't ever forget it." He smirked. "Of course, I can always prove it to you..."

"You can prove it to me tonight, Trunks," I called, turning on heel and striding quickly towards my car. Any more time in my lover's presence, and I'd be calling in a sick day.

"Have a good day, Chibi!" His voice followed me, and I waved at him as I got into my car, turning on the engine and wincing at the horrible, half-dying sounds it made in protest. Still, it started, and soon I was pulling onto the road and driving away from my tiny house and towards the college where I worked.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

_I would fly you to the moon and back_

__ _If you'll be if you'll be my baby_

__ _Got a ticket for a world where_

__ _We belong_

__ _So would you be my baby_

___Ooh-ooh_ 

I was very pleased with my car when it didn't die on me, though it did give out a despairing screech when I pulled into my parking spot at the school. Several nearby students winced and gave me pitying looks, looks which I remembered all too well. I'd have to get Trunks to lend me that motorcycle more often.

"Where's your motorcycle?" One of them called to me as I stepped out of the car, slinging my shoulder bag as I did so.

"My friend is taking it into the shop for repairs. I might get to drive it here in a couple days or so," I informed him cheerfully, grinning as he smiled back. "Why, are you jealous?"

"My brother's got a bike, but it's nowhere near as gorgeous are your friend's is," he informed me, sounding slightly wistful. "Will you ask her where she got it?"

"I will, but the bike isn't an it, the bike's a she, and her name is Seele." I didn't bother to correct him on Trunks's sex.

"Okay, her name's Seele. I've got it." The young man grinned at me boyishly. "My brother's obsessed with his bike being called Lucy after his girlfriend.. I told him that's stupid and that he'll keep his bike longer than he'll keep Lucille, but oh well, he's love-struck."

I laughed, and offered him a slight shrug. "Love-struck basically means idiot. Trust me; it takes one to know one." I watched the student blink, not comprehending how I could mock myself so easily. Laughing once more, I patted him on the shoulder. "Get to class." With the same bewildered look on his face, the student nevertheless nodded and wandered off in the direction of his next class (hopefully). Snickering at the fact that I had actually managed to confuse someone instead of the other way around, I stuck my hands in my pockets and cheerfully whistled as I waltzed towards my classroom.

"Konnichiwa!" I called out to my class, just as I had the day before, grinning (probably rather stupidly) at the scattered group. Most of them were seated, but a couple of them were standing by the desks of their friends, chatting about this and that. My eyes quickly found Curtis and Angelo, and I was amused to note that the Italian was sprawled on top of the foreign exchange student's desk, laughing at something his boyfriend had said.

"Konnichiwa, Son-sama!" Curtis called out in reply, smiling back at me and waving a Japanese-English dictionary at me.

Grinning back, I folded my arms against my chest and glanced around the room, unable to keep from smiling. "Okay class, what would you like to chat about today? We blazed through Benzaiten yesterday, so we can spend a bit of time just talking."

Curtis raised his hand, but Angelo spoke up, grinning mischievously. "Why don't we talk about you, Professor Son? You've never told us about your life."

"What?" At my rather blank reply, several students snickered, including Angelo.

"Yeah, your life. As in, where in Japan you were born, if you have any siblings, why you came here." The Italian paused before grinning mischievously once more. "How many times you've gotten laid, how many relationships you've been in, what-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" The majority of my class was in hysterics, just as the majority of my blood had rushed to my face. Running a hand through my hair and reminding myself to have a little 'chat' with Angelo later, I shifted in my stance and began, sounding uncomfortable even to my own ears. I wasn't about to tell them that my father was the famous Son Goku who had saved the world countless times and that I had helped save it once or twice, so I was attempting to keep the answers to the bare minimum without being boring.

"Well, there's not much to tell. I'm Goten Son, and you are not allowed to comment on or ask about my age!" The last part of the sentence was added rather hastily as Aldo grinned and opened his mouth to speak. Ignoring the Sicilian's disappointed look, I continued. "My father, Goku, and my mother, Chi-chi, live in a small cottage in the forests of Japan and I'm not telling you where it is just on the off-chance if any of you should end up in Japan I don't want my parents to be frightened." Most of my students grinned good-naturedly at the tease, but of course someone had to speak up. Only, this time it was Curtis.

"You know, there _are_ hackers in this college. We could easily just go to them and get all of your personal information. As in, where your parents are."

I blinked, and rolled my eyes. "Okay, almighty hackers, I beseech thee not to let anyone know about the whereabouts of my parents.. My mother's old and scary and you don't want to mess with her. Or her frying pan." Ignoring my students' snickers, I kept going. "Anyway, I have an older brother named Gohan who is happily married. He's a high school teacher at Satan City High in Japan. I have a twenty-one-year-old niece named Pan who goes to a prestigious university. She's already a famous architect." I paused, and rubbed the back of my neck. "Anything else you wanted to know?"

"Yeah, why'd you leave Japan and your family?" Angelo again.

"Because I've always wanted to live in a foreign land and Italy just happened to be the one I ended up in. I'd taken Italian as my language during college and English during high school, so it seemed like a great job opportunity."

"So you left your family in Japan and have been in Italy ever since you graduated college?"

"Yes.."

"Why do I get the feeling that there's a woe-begotten lover somewhere hidden in your story?" Angel declared, causing more laughter to ring through the room as I flushed hotly and rolled my eyes.

"I think you've read too many romance novels, Angelo," I stated, shaking my head. "I've only had two relationships in my life, and my girlfriend in college and I parted on good terms..." I paused, wrinkling my nose. Okay, so I had found her in bed with a guy in my Chinese Literature class.. Still, I hadn't been _that_ heart-broken and we hadn't been planning to get married or anything. "Like I said, too many romance novels, Angelo."

Angelo grinned and opened his mouth for some smart aleck retort, but was interrupted by the door swinging open and a very smug Gure sauntering in. Most of my class automatically bristled but kept quiet as the teacher smirked at me, looking self-righteous.

"The Board wants to speak to you right now, Son." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting a response.

I rubbed the back of my neck, cursing inwardly. I should have realized he'd have ratted me out this quickly to the Board. Oh well, off to make a plea for my job. "I refuse to lose my job because I drove a motorcycle to school, Gure," I informed him, not budging from my standing position. "Not to mention I'm in the middle of a class. Did the Board forget about my schedule?"

"I'll be teaching your first class today," the other teacher informed me, the same smirk on his face. I mentally gagged in horror as many of my students made faces and fought back groans. "Now, go." His edict made it seem as if he had all of the control, and my temper rose.

Narrowing my eyes, I decided to pull a stunt that Trunks would have done. I marched over to Gure, stepping towards him so that we were face to face. "Don't order me around, Gure, and do not torment my students," I growled out, glaring at him with all the venom I could muster. Which, seeing as the man was Gure, was a lot of venom. "If any of my students tell me that you said something racist or sexist or homophobic, I will have your ass in front of the Board and for once be a squealer!"

Feeling satisfied at the shocked look that the other man had on his face, I turned towards my class and added, "We were on page 467, if you'd be so kind to show Professor Gure, Class." I almost laughed as I exited the room, hearing several snorts of laughter coming from the bookworms of the class. That page began the chapter for the divinity of sex. Gure ought to have fun with that... God, I loved being evil.

~*~

I entered the School Board's room and mentally sighed at the reproving stares that met me at the door.

"G-Professor Gure said you wanted to see me, sirs and madams?" I inquired, my smile perhaps a tad nervous as I shifted uncomfortably before them, feeling like a little kid again when Mom had caught me trying to sneak food before dinner.

"Yes, Mister Son, we have been informed that you drove a motorcycle to school and that the motorcycle remained on college grounds during your class yesterday." The head of the Board gazed at me sternly, his face surrounded by a shock of white hair against Italian tanned skin. "You do realize that the action was against the rules of our school, correct?"

"Yes, sir." I kept my tone as humble as possible. After all, maybe if I seemed all quiet and submissive, they'd think I was sorry and not punish me..the keyword being maybe.

"You also realize that we have full rights to put you on a two-week suspension with no pay because of that offense, right?"

My meek and compliant plan went out the window as my head snapped up and I gazed in shock at the board members, all of whom gazed sternly back at me. "Meaning no insult, sir, but I think that would be very unfair even if you had rights to."

"Oh, really?" It was hard to tell whether the head of the Board was amused at my gall or annoyed by it. "Care to explain?"

I opted for humor. Maybe if he was amused, he might not punish me so much. I swallowed hard before beginning my explanation. "Well, if you all haven't seen my car, you may have heard it, screeching like a dying creature every time I pull into my reserved parking space. So when a friend let me use his transportation for once, I leapt at the chance. Unfortunately, the only ride he could offer me was his motorcycle. So I drove it, and parked it." I paused before rushing forward. "The fact of the matter, sirs and madams, is that the rule about motorcycles shouldn't be a rule at all. Most students find it far easier to afford a motorcycle than a car, and there really is no reason for the kids to not be allowed to have bikes on school property."

The head of the Board raised his eyebrow, no expression on his face. "Very well, Mister Son, we will discuss this and call you back in a few hours or so."

"Um, thanks," I said, scratching the back of my head and offering them a crooked grin. "Then I'm dismissed back to my class?"

"No, Mister Son, actually, we'd like you to go to the college library and take a look at the rulebook." The head of the Board had a definite smirk on his face as I gawked at him. "See when the rule for motorcycles was installed and why. Do our work for us."

"Um.. Sure, sir, whatever you say.." I muttered, inching towards the door. Why did I get the feeling he was making fun of me? Oh well, at least he hadn't automatically suspended me..

Exiting the room, I shrugged and headed towards the library. Oh well, I could do what they told me, and let my students torment Gure some more.. I was sure I'd hear a lot about it from Angelo later.

~*~

"Mister Son?" I glanced up from the computer, rubbing a hand across my eyes wearily. Gazing for an hour and a half at the computer screen going over school records really strained a person's eyes. "The school board wants to see you again."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at the intern, who grinned nervously back before disappearing to who knows where. Stiffening my resolve, I marched towards the office once more; trying to calm myself by repeating in my head that if I got suspended, that meant two whole weeks with Trunks.

I entered the room, all of the board's eyes on me once more. I fidgeted, uncomfortable. At least none of my students were judging me with their eyes.. Okay, so they were, but in an amusing way that meant joking.

"Mister Son, we have decided not to suspend you." Before the smile on my face could grow too wide, however, the head board-member added, "You will not be allowed to drive that motorcycle to school until we have gone over the rule and decided whether or not the rule will be changed. That will take a couple weeks."

"That sounds reasonable, sir," I agreed, trying to keep from goofily grinning. "I won't drive the motorcycle here until I'm allowed to, and I won't if you all decide no one is allowed to."

"Very well. You may teach your second class of the day, Mister Son."

"Thanks," I replied, eager to get away from those judging eyes. I fled the room and hurried to my classroom, just in time to see my students flee the room, relieved looks on their visages.

"Mister Son!" Aldo skidded to a stop in front of me. "Please say you're not in trouble!"

"No, I was just threatened with suspension," I admitted, noticing his extremely thankful look. "Did Gure do anything?"

Aldo snickered. "The better question is: did Angelo do anything to Gure?" Without waiting for my response, he followed the flood of students and vanished out of sight.

Unable to hide a smirk, I sauntered, much in the smug manner Gure had, into my classroom, just in time to hear Gure yell, "You stupid idiot!" My eyes landed on Angelo, who was smirking in front of the red-faced professor, Curtis hovering anxiously beside the Italian.

I bit back my smirk. "Angelo, have you been terrorizing a teacher?"

"All I said was that he must not have gotten laid lately if he couldn't talk about the goddess of sex," the Italian stated with an innocent look.

I couldn't help but laugh, earning a dirty look from Gure. "Angelo, get the hell out of here.. You too, Curtis." My tone revealed my amusement, but I added for show, "During the next class, Angelo, we're going to be learning about how Japanese mythology taught respect for their elders.. Like their teachers."

A lazy smirk gracing his features, Angelo shrugged. "Whatever you say, Professor." He waltzed past me, Curtis following anxiously behind.

As soon as the two had left, I raised an eyebrow at Gure. "Did you have fun with my class, Gure?"

The other teacher glared at me and proceeded to storm from the room, answering my question. I waited a few more seconds after the door slammed loudly to burst out laughing. That had been all too perfect.

~*~

Once my second class ended, I fairly bolted from the classroom, ahead of my students. I couldn't wait to tell Trunks about my day! I was certain he'd enjoy my prank on Gure, and be amused by Angelo's antics.

My car nearly flew over the paved street as I cheerfully hummed a few off- key bars of a song Trunks and I had liked during college. Maybe we could have Angelo and Curtis over for dinner during the weekend, a dinner that would involve me not slumped over groaning as Angelo and Trunks teased me mercilessly.

I jerked to a stop and tumbled from the car, grinning as I expected Trunks to be waiting in the doorway for me. When my eyes didn't catch sight of him, I figured he must be waiting inside with a surprise.

I noted that he had put his bike in the shop, even as I did a foxtrot into the house, calling out at the top of my voice, "Guess what happened as school today?" Silence greeted me, and I couldn't help but pout, muttering, "Well, good evening to you too, lover.."

No longer doing a foxtrot, I entered the kitchen, glancing around for Trunks. Maybe he was still getting Seele fixed? Then my eyes fell upon a white piece of paper on the table. A small twinge of unease beginning in my stomach, I picked up the paper.

_Dear Chibi,_

__ _I know you may not believe me, but something's come up. My past has come back to haunt me, if you wish to put it that way, and I can't put you into this kind of danger. I'll try to come back soon, but I can't promise anything. Remember, if anyone asks, I'm Veilchen Reiter, and we were simply friends in college. Nothing more. That's all you're to tell anyone._

__ _I'm truly sorry Chibi, but you can't possibly understand what's going on. Just know that I love you and I will try to come back. I just can't promise to._

__ _Yours always, Trunks_

___P.S. Please destroy this letter once you've read this. T._ 

The paper dropped from my suddenly nerveless hands to flutter to the table.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

_I would fly you to the moon and back_

__ _If you'll be if you'll be my baby_

__ _Got a ticket for a world where_

__ _We belong_

__ _So would you be my baby_

__ _Ooh-ooh _

__I didn't go to school the next day, and the weekend seemed to last only a few minutes in a hazy, lost sort of way. When Monday rolled around, I called in sick once more; I did the same Tuesday.

And what did I do during those five days? Nothing constructive to find Trunks, of course. If the most expensive detectives Bulma could afford were unable to find Trunks, I, a college professor, had no chance whatsoever. So I buried myself in my bed and moped.

Moped isn't strong enough of a word, really. I just stayed in bed with my blankets over my face and racked my brain for everything I had said to my lavender-haired lover, trying to figure out why he would leave. I didn't believe the bullshit about him needing to keep me out of danger. I could handle any danger on Earth, after all. I was a Saiya-jinn, even if I was an out-of-shape one.

I only got up when my body rebelled against me and forced me to go eat or use the bathroom. Even then, I probably had a bewildered, forlorn look on my visage.

I was sprawled on my back, musing on the last words Trunks had said to me and gazing up at the blank ceiling when someone knocked on the door, loudly and urgently. For a moment, I ignored it, and then remembered when Trunks had knocked on my door only a few days before in the middle of the night. Snatching up the letter (I had ignored his request to destroy it), I bolted for the front door, hope spurring me onward.

I threw open the door and snarled in Japanese, much like the first night, "What the hell did you think you were doing, Trunks?"

Angelo and Curtis simply blinked at me, Angelo's fist frozen in the place where he had been about to knock once more.

Any hope that had been kindled in my heart was lost to the cruel winds of reality, and I leaned against the door, using it as a support as my body reminded me that I hadn't eaten enough in the last couple of days.

"Professor Son?" Curtis ventured cautiously, and I knew what he was thinking.

I looked like shit. There were dark bags under my eyes and a pastiness to my flesh that hadn't been there before. No doubt I had lost weight, and the fact that I was wearing only jogging pants that were old probably gave that fact away.

"What?" I questioned coldly, not in the mood to deal with two of my students.

"We-we just came to see how you were doing. Gure's been our substitute, and he said you were ill," the Brit informed me, inching closer to Angelo and eyeing me carefully. "Do you have the flu?"

"Is Veilchen sick with it too?" added the Italian, his dark eyes curious.

At the moment, I hated that curiosity.

"Go away," I said, flatly, before I stepped backwards and slammed the door in their surprised faces. I turned to storm back to my room, when a damn little thing called my conscious decided to poke me in the gut.

Biting back an annoyed groan, I nevertheless turned and reopened the door. Angelo was still blinking in surprise, while Curtis looked thoughtful as I gruffly asked them if they'd like to come inside. Well, I attempted to be gruff. I haven't exactly perfected that tone yet.

The duo entered, glancing around and obviously noticing that Trunks wasn't here. Angelo made himself comfortable at the table while Curtis glanced at the letter in my hand.

I frowned reprovingly and quickly stuffed the letter in the pocket of my pants, ignoring the twinge of regret at the hurt look that flitted through the Brit's eyes at my frown.

"If you two were told that I was sick, why'd you come over? If I really was, you'd be sick too."

"Well, we figured you and Veilchen were probably skipping class to 'enjoy each other's company' and that you weren't sick at all," Angelo explained with a grin, motioning for Curtis to sit down next to him.

"It's pretty hard to enjoy each other's company when he skips town and deserts you for a second time." The bitter words escaped my lips before I could stop myself, and both of them looked flabbergasted.

"He _left_ you? But he was so cool!" Angelo cried, thunderstruck.

"He left me a letter that said his past 'had caught up with him' and that he didn't want to put me in any danger." Now that I spoken once, I suddenly couldn't stop ranting. All the hurt I had kept inside for the last few days tumbled out in an anguished torrent of words. "Damn it, why didn't he know that I can take care of myself? I'm my father's son, after all!" Angelo and Curtis faded from view for a moment as I began to pace, angry words falling from my lips once more. "First he steals the money and runs, and then he appears on my doorstep eight fucking years later, and doesn't even tell me what the hell he's been doing all these years! He's suddenly learned a half-dozen languages and even acquired a fake name! What did he think I'd do when he disappeared again? Just expect me to welcome him back in another eight damn years? I'm not his fuck that he can toss around, Kami curse him! The stupid, bloody bastard! That stupid, stupid _baka_!" I'd been yelling in Italian the entire rant, but on the last word I switched back to my native tongue, which felt good.

"Maybe we should go-" came the hesitant words of the wide-eyed Brit as he and Angelo came back into focus.

"Please. I'll be back in school tomorrow," I said crisply, not bothering to look at them to see their reactions to my words. "And don't tell anyone about anything I've just yelled about. Please."

Both boy nodded, but I didn't like the probing, contemplative look on Curtis' face. Somehow I had said too much and he was going to find out who Trunks really was.

"You heard me, Curtis? Don't tell anyone about any of what I've been talking about." I locked eyes with him, and he swallowed before bobbing his head up and down in another nod.

"Yes sir," he added for good measure, rising from his chair and tugging on Angelo's sleeve. "We'll see you at school tomorrow then."

Angelo simply continued to look astounded, unable to do anything but nod and obey his lover's instructions. He allowed himself to be lead from my house. I watched, my arms folded against my bare chest, as the two got onto their bicycles and pedaled away and out of sight. As soon as they did, I slumped to the wooden panel of the porch and wearily pulled out the letter, reading the ill-fated words once more.

Why had Trunks left me? Was he ever going to come back?

As angry and hateful my words had been, I _would_ welcome him back with open arms, just to see that familiar, haunting smile and run my fingers through those lavender tendrils of his. I would cradle him in my arms and scold him even while I laugh with tears of relief running down my cheeks.

Damn him. Why couldn't he have just stayed?

I gazed down at the piece of paper, my fingers trembling. He wanted me to destroy the letter that had shattered my heart. Did he even realize that this was the only thing he had left for me to covet that had been his?

No, no I wouldn't destroy this paper. I'd keep it.

And wait. Wait another eight years if I had to for Trunks to come back to me again.

If I was so certain of this, why did the tears keep coming?

~*~

"Curtis, why are we in a library when we could be making out?" Angelo whimpered softly into his lover's ear, sitting behind him and resting his chin on the Brit's shoulder as they both gazed at the screen.

"Because I want to know why Professor Son's boyfriend called himself Veilchen but the professor called him Trunks when he threw open the door," Curtis replied, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Trunks could be a pet name," Angelo pointed out, smiling devilishly at the thought.

Curtis rolled his eyes. "Who on Earth would have the pet name of Trunks?"

Angelo snickered. "Oh, I could think of certain scenarios that would end up being the cause of that nickname."

"I'm sure you could," the Brit muttered dryly even as he typed in three words into the Search Engine.

"Son Goten, Trunks?" Angelo repeated. "Come on, Curtis, there's got to be a bunch of junk on the word 'Trunks.'"

His lover ignored him, and waited for the information to load. He smiled in satisfaction. "See? There's a newspaper article with Son Goten being quoted!"

"Well, click the link so we can read it. Blackmail!" Angelo commented gleefully, snuggling closer to his boyfriend and squinting at the screen.

Curtis obeyed, and the two proceeded to read the article. By the time they finished, their mouths were hanging open in shock.

"Damn," they declared in unison, earning a cold look from the librarian.

The newspaper article was dated a little over eight years before, in the newspaper of Satan City. That wasn't what had them stunned.

A photograph of the would-be Veilchen Reiter smiled up at them from the screen, looking much younger and carefree than they had seen him. Under the photo was a caption that read, 'Trunks Briefs, age 21, at a company gathering.' Beneath the photograph and caption was the article.

"Trunks Briefs (photo above) has been missing for three weeks. Briefs, the future President of Capsule Corporation, disappeared from his college dormitory last Friday. The son of Bulma Briefs and Vegeta, 'Prince of the Saiya-jinn,' Briefs would have graduated from a prestigious college last week with Honors in his business major and stepped into his predetermined role as Vice President of Capsule Corporation.

At the same time of Briefs' disappearance, one million dollars mysteriously vanished from the Capsule Corporation banking account. Mrs. Briefs had no comment to how someone managed to steal that amount, but police have theorized that the young Briefs was kidnapped and forced to take the money using the special codes that only he and Mrs. Briefs know to access the accounts.

Briefs' disappearance made headlines after his best friend and college roommate, Son Goten, called Briefs' parents to say that Trunks hadn't come home the night before. The police were immediately called, and a country- wide search has been going on ever since. Son has been unavailable for questioning by the media ever since, staying with the Briefs family during the search.

Mrs. Briefs has made numerous, tearful pleas for the safety of her son, adding that she would use her own money and not the company's for the ransom. Information from the police suggests that there has been no calls from the supposed kidnappers and that they fear the young Briefs is dead.

Briefs' father and younger sister have declined to comment about the incident."

 


End file.
